The End of a Marriage
by UP girl
Summary: Will Turner meets his wife after 10 years, and their marriage comes to an end.  WXE with JXE referenced.


Disclaimer - I don't own them, and no infringement is intended.

Warning for character death.

oOoOoOoOoO

The flash of green took Elizabeth Turner off guard, even though she was expecting it. It had been ten years since she'd last seen that flash, ten years since she'd last had a glimpse of the_ Flying Dutchman_, ten long, eventful years.

She wondered, more than a little anxiously, how Will would see her now. Time had not been overly kind to her. Her hair was still the same honey color he would remember, streaked by the sun, but it framed a face that was tired and appeared older than she knew it should have. Her body was thin and more angular, her hands were rough and chapped from her years at sea.

Nervousness made her mouth dry and her fingers tremble. She clutched the hem of her tunic to stop them from shaking, moistened her lips, and waited.

"Hello, Elizabeth," Will's low voice came from behind her, startling her.

She whirled around, one hand going to her throat. She found her husband standing before her, straight, strong and so handsome; he looked very much the same as she remembered. But the wariness in his eyes, that was new.

"How did you do that?" she gasped.

Will gave a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"It's a power that seems to come with immortality, and my position on the _Dutchman_," he said. "I need it to get aboard shipwrecks quickly, and move about freely."

"I see," she said faintly, nodding her head.

The silence between them grew, and quickly became awkward. Elizabeth didn't know what to say, and Will seemed to be perfectly content to wait for her to take the lead. She finally cleared her throat, feigning a cough.

"It's good to see you again, Will," she said. "It's incredible, but you haven't changed at all."

"No, I expect I haven't," he gave a little laugh, one that held a dark undercurrent of bitterness. "Time doesn't really exist in the _Dutchman's_ realm. The world moves on, but we don't move with it. Years, months, hours, they all seem to be very much the same, somehow. It was difficult to keep track of the days until I could see you again," he added, his gaze drifting for a moment to stare at a spot somewhere over her left shoulder, before turning his eyes back to hers. "But I did."

Elizabeth couldn't help wincing inwardly at his words, and what they'd revealed. For those ten years he'd waited, counting the days. And she'd been doing anything but.

"Elizabeth," Will finally gave a weary sigh. "I know."

"I beg your pardon?" she replied, a tinge of panic in her voice.

"I know," he repeated quietly. "Almost all of it, I should think. Oh, not every single detail, but enough. More than enough, actually." At her look of confusion, Will elaborated "You're the pirate king, and Jack is ... Jack. I may move in the realm of the afterlife, but even there I've heard the stories. Your many adventures. The Sparrow and the Swann. I believe I heard it all. Not just your pirating together, but your _being_ together," his voice held a note of unrelenting pain and accusation, and he swallowed hard. "Calypso couldn't wait to tell me that my service wouldn't be over in ten years time."

"Will," she breathed, "I'm so sorry."

"I heard, too," his gaze was deceptively mild, but she somehow found herself quailing under the force of it, "that he left you after a while, found some other wench to bed."

Elizabeth nodded her head, cheeks flushing.

"I should have known, really," she said tiredly. "He told me something once. He said that we were both alike. He said that I wanted to act on selfish impulse, that I wanted to do what I wanted to _because_ I wanted to. I should have remembered that he was talking about himself as well. He left me," she smiled a tight little smile, "for a pretty little thing, young, free-spirited, a lot like me, actually. That was _his_ selfish impulse. He wanted her, and he acted on it."

"But he came back to you," Will said, "eventually."

"Oh yes, he came back, a broken-down drunk, almost two years later, after she'd left him. By then, the rum had completely taken over his life, just like I imagine it took over Mr. Brown's. He was back, but all he cared about was the rum, and where he could get more of it. He went through all his money, all my money, any bit of treasure that he could remember hiding. He would pull himself together enough to do a bit of pirating, and then drink it away."

"We weren't lovers when he came back. I take no other woman's leavings," she lifted her chin in response to Will's ironically raised brow, proud and a little defiant even now. "But I felt responsible for him. He needed me. You know what it was like with Mr. Brown."

Will nodded, remembering well the demands that were placed on him when the rum had taken over the master blacksmith's life. He knew the heaviness of the responsibilities that fell on his shoulders at a young age because of it, both in the shop and at home, and he knew it wouldn't have been any different for Elizabeth.

He found himself caring about her, about the wreck she'd made of her life, and he wondered angrily why he still did so.

"Where's Jack now?" Will asked abruptly.

Elizabeth looked away for a moment to stare out over the darkening sky. The ocean's waves beating against the shore filled the air with sound; it was almost soothing to her weary soul.

"Jack's dead," she told him, with no real emotion. "I'm surprised you didn't know."

"When did it happen?" Will asked, the shock of her revelation plain in his voice. He hurried to add, "I swear to you, I've heard nothing about it. If it was recent, word hasn't yet had a chance to spread to my realm."

"It was less than a month ago," she replied. "He was rolled on his way back from a tavern, and the thieves killed him. I'll spare you any further unhappy details."

"Elizabeth, I'm sorry," Will said with a certain amount of real sadness.

"Don't, Will. Please don't give me any of your sympathy. I made my choices," a flash of devastation drifted over her face at the word she'd just used, and the sweet memory of vows taken on a rain-soaked deck that came with it. "I got exactly what I asked for, when I went with Jack. I got a man who was ruled by selfish impulse, who loved rum to excess and who, after a few years of our being together, didn't mind bedding wenches who saw fit to lift a beckoning finger," she said flatly.

The silence returned, each one of them alone with their thoughts.

"What will you do now?" Will asked quietly, after a long time.

Elizabeth gave a weary shrug. "I don't really know. Now that it's over, I'm a little at a loss."

The awkwardness was once again back, in full force. Neither of them knew quite what to say, or what to do.

In the crushing silence, Elizabeth realized that there was a part of her, one she'd buried deep inside when she'd made her decision to take up with Jack, that was hoping, praying, that Will would forgive her.

He always had before. If there was one constant in her life, it was that Will loved her and he would do anything for her, forgive anything of her. She found herself holding her breath, waiting, even as she called herself a hypocrite. Because, as much as she'd told Will she didn't want him to give her his sympathy and understanding, she found that she truly did.

But it seemed she'd reached the limit of even Will's steadfast love.

"I'm sure that you'll find your way," he said softly. "You always have," he gave her a crooked smile, and began to back away.

_He's leaving_, she thought, and surge of panic overcame her. Elizabeth moved quickly to stop him, reaching out to grasp his arm.

"Will, you ... you can't leave. You've only just gotten here. It's your one day! Please! I know ... I know you're angry and hurt, but ..." her voice trailed away at his suddenly closed expression. He took her hand in a warm clasp, but only to gently remove her fingers and then let her hand go. It fell limply to her side.

"No, Elizabeth," Will said firmly. "There's no reason for me to stay. I couldn't hear everything I've heard over the years," despite Will's best effort, the anguish of those years could be heard in his voice, "and not know that it would be ending this way. But I had to be sure." He hesitated for a moment, and then took a deep breath. "I don't know if, as captain of a ship, I can dissolve our marriage, but if it's possible, I hereby release you from your vows."

Her eyes filled with tears as she shook her head in repudiation, a sob rising in her throat, unable to believe that it was really over, that she would never see him again.

"Be happy, Elizabeth," Will reached out to touch her cheek one last time. "And, please, grant me one final request?"

"Anything," she said brokenly.

"Don't die at sea. I don't think I could bear it," his eyes were dark and bleak, "to be the one to ferry you home."

Elizabeth's vision blurred as the tears overflowed. When she blinked them away Will was gone, and she was left alone.


End file.
